


Dust of the Saturn

by monstersinthecosmos



Series: The Usher [9]
Category: Vampire Chronicles - Anne Rice
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bloodplay, M/M, Pegging, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Poor Life Choices, Rimming, mindfucking, vampire stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-29
Updated: 2017-08-29
Packaged: 2018-12-21 12:48:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11944551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monstersinthecosmos/pseuds/monstersinthecosmos
Summary: But, strangely, something in Armand’s face said that he was nervous, too. Almost like he was a person.





	Dust of the Saturn

**Author's Note:**

> Named after & written with the aid of [Dust of the Saturn by Dynatron](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1ud5yDjM63I). All the songs I'm using in this series are in a playlist now, [check it out on Tumblr](https://monstersinthecosmos.tumblr.com/post/159626820089/soundtrack-the-usher-01-savlonic-android). :)

_1981_

 

It had been one of those days that Daniel couldn’t stay asleep. It happened from time to time and felt like a cold reminder that he was doing something wrong. Not just “wrong” like that he was fucking up his life and making terrible decisions, not just the “wrong” that would’ve disappointed his parents if they knew he was squandering his future and book royalties the way he was, but the deeper wrong. Ethically wrong. Biblically wrong. There were days when it was too noisy outside, and the sunlight felt so oppressive, even filtered as it was by the hotel curtains. It felt wrong that he was cavorting with a dead thing all night. It felt more wrong that he enjoyed it as much as he did, that he craved it for himself.

But it wasn’t just the usual tossing and turning and dull, steady ache in his muscles begging him for sleep—it was also that he couldn’t stop thinking about Armand. Part arousal, part impatience. The past few months he’d been going through one of his weird discovery cycles—this time it was sex shops. Buying toys, dragging Daniel to peep shows, learning everything he could about obscure fetishes. Last night he’d showed with up a stack of porn tapes and watched Daniel watch them the way he liked to watch him eat. And now, with the sun up, he kept hearing Armand’s voice by his ear, silky and soft, whispering _Yes, yes, show me Daniel_ , as he’d jerked off to them. Kept feeling the cool, firm hand rubbing the top of his thigh as he came all over himself. _That’s it, yes. Beautiful, Daniel._ His dick kept coming back to life when he’d remember how Armand’s eyes looked afterwards, round and coy, staring up at him as he licked the mess off Daniel’s stomach.

And, Christ, what a waste of time that he had to jerk off again, and again. Armand had left the videos here for the day, too, and he kept putting them back on. He turned the volume low—logic told him that if ever there had been a time to watch the volume, it would’ve been last night, when any potential neighbors in the surrounding suites would’ve been sleeping. The noise of daytime should’ve covered it now, but something about watching porn while the sun was out felt extra depraved. He muffled his voice with the back of his hand and came again.

It was golden hour when he finally gave up. He opened the curtains and basked in the late afternoon light, the orange glow that changed the temperature of the room. He could feel the sleep deprivation in his whole frame, in his aching joints, his sore eyes as he showered and made coffee. He went down to the lobby to get a newspaper, and tried to read it as he waited for Armand. Still tired, but when the sun finally went down he felt so relaxed and relieved.

Armand entered the room like a real person this time, actually making noise with the lock and moving at a speed that seemed normal and human. He had a shopping bag in hand and Daniel’s mind flashed to the night before. His back went stiff as he tried to avoid looking at it or thinking about it. Armand set it down at the other end of the table and came around hover behind Daniel’s back. _I want to try that_ , Daniel had wanted to ask when the video had ended. And Armand had teased him a little, but…

“Did you want to…” he set his newspaper down and stared hard at one of the headlines. _YORKSHIRE RIPPER CONVICTED_. “…do anything tonight?”

He began to rub gentle circles into Daniel’s shoulders. “No.”

“No movies? No opera tickets? Nothing?”

“Nothing,” Armand repeated. He leaned in and kissed the back of Daniel’s neck. Daniel felt his hair standing up.

He could hear Armand’s voice from last night again in his head, and began to push away from the table so that he could turn and see, and kiss, and touch, but before he could turn or stand Armand had slipped into his lap. Hands ran through his hair and lips came down against his mouth. He glanced over Armand’s shoulder to look at the bag, and he wondered, but for the moment he could wait. This felt nice.

One hand slid over Armand’s back, and curled around to settle on his ribs. With his other he grabbed a fistful of denim beneath Armand’s knee to pull him closer. And then he was groaning as Armand pressed in, body heavy and solid, and he tasted the Blood now, gushing through, filling his mouth. Warm, even though the lips were cool.

This was a point when Armand usually teased, only offered a taste, and Daniel’s hands went frantic, gripping desperately to pull him closer, and he sucked at Armand’s tongue to get more, to savor it, wring as much dry as he could before it was taken again, but…

The hands in his hair went soft, and the fingertips massaged gentle patterns into his scalp. Daniel’s hips began to lift upward, grinding against Armand’s weight. The wound on Armand’s tongue was closing, he could feel it getting smaller as he probed at it, and he slowed down once it was gone, taking his time to lick the rest of the Blood away. Then Armand’s hands were on his face, and he was gasping for breath as they separated. Armand’s eyes locked on him, cloudy and curious as he felt the heat of the Blood spreading through his chest. He felt it in his fingertips and his gut and his cock. It washed over like an elixir, rinsed away the pain and fatigue, and the colors of the room pulsed and deepened. The constant mess of noise from the city outside quieted to something soothing.

And Armand.

Eyes gleaming, and stray curls falling over his face, and long lashes, and so much meaning wrapped in this incongruous vision of youth. _So beautiful,_ Daniel thought. _So beautiful._

But even from underneath the ecstatic glow of Blood he caught the way Armand was studying him, and the way he was rubbing his thumbs into Daniel’s skin as if appraising him. Daniel tried to lean back to put distance between them, but could only go so far.

“What?”

Armand’s fingertips pressed into his skin once more before he pulled back and offered a half-smirk. “Nothing.”

Daniel opened his mouth to protest, but Armand slipped off his lap and took him by the wrist before he could get the words out.

“Come here, Daniel,” he said. He tugged at Daniel’s wrists to get him to stand, and grabbed the shopping bag off the table. Daniel’s legs felt weak and he leaned against Armand for balance as they crossed the room. When they got closer to the bed, Armand slid a finger through one of Daniel’s beltloops and pulled him close to kiss again. Armand had to go up on his toes, and it always made Daniel’s heart flutter a little when he did that. He bent to meet Armand halfway. Soft and still tasting like blood, but then Armand pulled away to whisper against the corner of Daniel’s mouth. “I bought something for you.”

He couldn’t help the little chuckle that came out, and his heart tripped in anticipation. Armand’s palm came down over his chest, his eyes softening as he felt for it, and it was only gentle for the briefest moment before pressing forth a quick shove. It wasn’t violent, but enough that Daniels legs hit the mattress and he sprawled backwards. He was still staring at the ceiling when Armand dropped the bag into his lap.

The paper crinkled in his hands and he crushed it in his fists as he sat up. The strange mixture of arousal and confusion and nervous anticipation as he watched Armand’s face was becoming familiar; it was something that used to make him uncomfortable but it had become so linked to _Armand_ in his body that it was beginning to feel like home. Armand was calm, too calm, eerily calm like he always was, and he froze when his hand landed on the unmistakable shape of a dildo. _That’s it, yes. Beautiful, Daniel_ , in his head again as he broke the eye contact to look down.

The sight of it had heat coiling in his insides immediately. Instinctively, he wrapped a hand around the shaft, then stroked downward, fingers trailing over the limp straps and cold buckles.

“You…” he felt it burning in his face.

“This was what you wanted.”

His throat suddenly felt dry. He tried to swallow around it. “Yeah.”

“Is it to your liking?”

“It’s…” his heart beat faster, “…yeah. It’s fine.”

Armand smiled and came closer. He moved the bag off of Daniel’s lap, discarding it to the side so that he could climb on and straddle Daniel’s thighs. He held the sides of Daniel’s neck as they kissed, thumbs sweeping over his pulse. His hips were moving again, rolling softly upward into a rhythm that Armand followed. It had Daniel moaning as Armand’s touch traveled down across his shoulders, then his chest, his ribs. When he slipped his fingers beneath the hem of Daniel’s shirt, he gasped from the sudden intrusion of cold.

“I didn’t feed tonight, Daniel,” Armand confessed. And, fuck. The way his voice shot energy down Daniel’s spine. It gave him the sudden and suffocating sense of being with a _predator_. He shuddered as Armand kissed the corner of his jaw, then bit lightly at his earlobe. Cold hands slid higher up his body, coaxing him to lift his arms so that his shirt could be pulled over his head. It was tossed to the floor and then they were kissing again. Cold hands flat against his chest, then sliding down to the waist of his jeans. Fingertip pressed into the button and palm resting against his hardon. Daniel squirmed and tried to grind upward for more friction, but Armand stayed ahead of him by lifting his hand just enough to stay out of reach.

Fuck. Fuck. Pressure, friction, teeth, he didn’t care. _Something_. Please.

“Shh,” Armand soothed. He kissed the side of Daniel’s face, messy and open-mouthed, and his fangs grazed there just enough to make Daniel feel like he’d go crazy. “Not yet, lover.”

Lover.

Then he was on the floor between Daniel’s legs, and Daniel hadn’t even seen him move, and it gave him that sick feeling in his stomach that mixed so pleasantly with the relentless arousal. He lifted himself up just enough to let Armand pull his pants away.

 _Please, please bite me_ , he was thinking as he watched. Armand was kissing the inside of his thigh, and dragging his fangs there. Just enough to ignite the images, the need. The quick shock of pain that always came never ceased to surprise him, always felt so hot and unnatural and he was craving it. The pain and the dizziness and the way he could always feel the blood leaking, trapped there beneath Armand’s lips. He never spilled any, never made a mess, kept it contained there so that it mixed with the supple feeling of Armand’s tongue. And the pressure, the disorientation of blood loss, the suction, the way it throbbed as he pulled at the wound.

But then he stopped, and took a breath, pulled away to lean his forehead against Daniel’s leg as if composing himself. And again, too quickly for Daniel to even register, he’d snapped forward, giving Daniel a hard shove to the sternum so that had him falling flat on his back. He watched the ceiling and felt Armand rubbing against the inside of his thigh.

How many times had Armand watched others do this to him? And now… Daniel’s breath was shaky as he felt the kisses dancing across his inner thighs, then landing at the base of his pelvis. And then the cool hands kneading into his ass. His legs twitched and reflexively squeezed inward, but Armand dug his nails in to make him stop, then began to spread him apart. Quick gasp when he felt the tongue, wet but lukewarm, soft but unalive, in a slow lap across his hole. Flat and wide, licking a slow line over him once, then twice more. And then he paused.

Don’t stop. _Don’t stop._

His whole body twitched as Armand blew across it in response, and his hands dug in tighter. His nails bit crescents into Daniel’s skin that made him flinch. But why had he _stopped?_

Daniel’s voice was a tangled knot in his throat when he finally spoke. “Please…”

Armand’s hand dragged up the back of his thigh, pushing it up and out of the way. His other leg went over Armand’s shoulder, and his hips rolled again in a slow rhythm. Armand followed his pace as he leaned back in. Slow, broad strokes at first, then teasing upwards onto his perineum, and then the too-light, nearly infuriating pressure against his balls. His hands were twisting into the sheets as Armand made his way back down, kissing against him, gently. He took a deep breath and tried to slow down, tried to calm down, and when his movements ceased for just a moment he felt Armand opening his mouth to suck. And fuck. Fuck. His hips started upward and his legs started to squeeze close again, but Armand’s steady, effortless strength held him steady.

“Fuck, Armand—“ fuck, what? Thoughts were getting fuzzy, all he could focus on was the sensation. No room for language or words or speech as Armand’s mouth was replaced with the firm press of a fingertip, tracing a circle around. He felt that Armand was hesitating, and he was beginning to whine, shake, when the mouth was back. But it was different this time, different from before and different from any other time with any other person. Rich and hot and velvety and he _knew_ without seeing, he could feel the Blood the moment Armand pushed his tongue inside. His body went stiff, tense, and his eyes went wide as his hands grabbed for Armand’s hair. He wrapped his fingers into the curls as Armand hummed against him.

“Arma-aand—“

Armand began to lift his head, and Daniel shook as he squeezed, tried to keep him down where he was, but there was no chance.

“Yes, Daniel?”

Jesus Christ, why was he stopping? “Don’t—“

But before he could finish he was being touched again, penetrated, and the Blood was so slick and it was _so fucking wrong,_ truly wrong, Biblically wrong. Armand was moving, crawling up beside him while he worked Daniel open. And this was it, this was the bottom, this was as depraved as it got, wasn’t it? Sorry Mom. Sorry Dad. It wasn’t your fault. Something went bad along the way. Blood for lube and fucking a dead guy. Bye-bye, this was it.

And _the Blood…!_

His breathing was labored and he was squirming and the feeling of it in him wasn’t the usual sensual warmth, not like sinking into a hot bath, not like a lover’s embrace, not like the nearly-orgasmic first sip of coffee in the morning. No, this time it was the hot spike of candle wax, a splash of acid, like being hit by a fucking train.

Too much, too much. So intense that it hurt, but he could also feel it curling in his toes. _The Blood the Blood the Blood._ It was chaotic, wild. He needed something, anything, to bring him back down to Earth, back to consciousness. Armand was leaning in close and he could feel the cool breath against his ear.  

“What do you need, Daniel?” He whispered.

He was twitching hard enough that his shoulders came off the bed, and he cried out as Armand rubbed against his prostate.

“Focus, Daniel. What do you need?”

_Please will you bite me?_

He turned to look at Armand’s face, and saw the way he was teasing by tonguing the tip of one his fangs. The room was warping around them, shadows moving, the space expanding then collapsing on itself. He shook his head to try to focus and tried to meet Armand’s eyes. _Blood, blood. Fuck I’m so fuckin high. Fuck don’t stop._

Armand raised his eyebrows and scissored his fingers. “I didn’t quite hear that, Daniel.”

“Please,” god, was he whining? He went to touch himself, dick aching and untouched, but Armand grabbed his wrist to stop him. “Please, Armand. Please.”

“Tell me what you need.”

“Bite me, please,” head was spinning. “Please, I need it.”

He lifted Daniel’s wrist to his lips, breathing in the scent for a moment before opening his mouth, pressing his teeth in just enough to make little dimples in the flesh.

“What else, Daniel?”

Another pathetic noise as Armand bit down, teasing still, dull pain as his teeth indented the skin without breaking it. _I don’t want to hurt you, Daniel._ The voice in his head had him trembling.

“I don’t care,” panting now. “Hurt me, I don’t care. Bite me, kill me, whatever.”

A quick crease marred Armand’s perfect skin as he frowned, then dropped Daniel’s hand back down to the bed. He ground himself down against Armand’s fingers and blinked up at him helplessly.

“No, Daniel,” he slowed and began to pull out. “What else.”

_Oh god oh please._

He pressed his lips to Daniel’s throat. “Tell me, Daniel.”

The sound he made when Armand pulled completely out was so pathetic and sad, he could hear it even through the haze, and he turned to cling. He pulled himself closer by Armand’s t-shirt and buried his face in the auburn curls. He rolled his hips against Armand’s leg.

“Please,” he whimpered. “Please, Armand.”

_Please what, Daniel?_

_“Please will you fuck me?”_

And the pain, finally, to ground him, to make sense of it. Armand’s teeth in his neck, and Daniel squeezed himself closer at the sudden charge of it. It was over quickly, just a taste, but the pain had been sharp enough to help him focus. Armand licked over the wounds as he healed them and Daniel tried to catch his breath. He was overstimulated and dizzy and the cold feeling of neglect was instant when Armand began to peel himself away. Daniel watched as he stood, and propped himself up on his elbows to watch as Armand pulled off his shirt, then unbuttoned his jeans.

“Put it on me, Daniel,” he said. His pants pooled on the ground and he stepped over them to come closer. Daniel blinked slowly and swallowed and tried to focus. He was stuck somewhere between _Holy shit is this really happening?_ and _Too much too much I’m too fucking high_. But he managed to sit all the way up, and he didn’t take his eyes off Armand as he reached to the side of the bed for the bag. It had waited there patiently this whole time.

His fingers curled around it and the weight in his hand caused such an instant blend of excitement and fear. His heart skipped and he looked down at it, holding in in his lap. It wavered slightly as he locked it into place in the harness, and he ran his thumb around the head, admiring the way it shone in the light. Fear wasn’t the right word, he didn’t think. Not real fear, like the fear he used to feel around Armand.

“Come here,” he whispered.

Not fear for his life, not the type of jump scares that would make him want to crawl out of his skin. He rubbed Armand’s leg to coax him into the harness, and felt hands on his shoulders as he moved the straps and buckles into place. Not a fear that felt dangerous, just…

“Tell me if it’s too tight.”

Armand ran his fingers through Daniel’s hair, pushing the loose bangs out of the way.

“Okay,” he finally said when he was done.

“Okay?”

The fear was just the gnawing discomfort of vulnerability, openness. There were so many times he’d felt painfully aware of Armand probing into his mind, so aware of how transparent his thoughts were. That part was nothing new, he supposed. But there was something undeniably palpable about crossing this barrier now, a new type of intimacy they hadn’t experienced together yet. He stared into Armand’s eyes for a moment, hesitant and unsure what the next step was, feeling like a clueless virgin all of a sudden. His hands were shaking, and he busied himself by adjusting the harness one more time, breaking away from the eye contact to focus on it. The sight of Armand’s useless real parts waiting there untouched gave him a little thrill, like it always did, and he was struck with the usual temptation to lean forward and take it into his mouth. Instead, he bit his lip and gave the dildo a light tug.

“Good, Daniel,” Armand said. He touched it then, himself, laying a slow, experimental stroke from tip to root. It made Daniel’s jaw clench. “Why don’t you lie down.”

He nodded, wordless, and crawled backwards until he was near the head of the bed. Armand was hovering, holding it and staring at it, lost in thought. It was shiny and black and the light moved back and forth over the the surface as Armand pushed it from side to side. It made such a stark contrast to the unnatural pallor of his skin. And… god. It almost killed his arousal as he wondered if he was being selfish. But Armand wouldn’t be doing any of this if he didn’t want to. Right?

And it was amazing how self-conscious he felt when Armand finally looked back up. Nervous like a teenager. But, strangely, something in Armand’s face said that he was nervous, too. Almost like he was a person. His hand stroked up and down the dildo idly, like was trying to adjust to it. Daniel reached his hand out and his legs fell open.

_Please, Armand. I want it._

Brief pause as he absorbed the words, then he nodded, and was coming around the side of the bed. He went into the nightstand for lube, and was touching the apparatus again before climbing into the bed.

Proper lubricant this time as Armand touched him again, settling between Daniel’s legs and kissing him, and it was less urgent now, lazier and warmer and Daniel moaned. Nervous still, but inhibitions were melting away. The dildo rubbed against him and he gasped. He rocked his hips upward against it, and down onto Armand’s hand, and feeling it there jutting into him finally started to make it feel real. This was a thing that was going to happen now. When Armand pulled away at sat back on his knees he felt the heat rushing into his face. It was almost sensual the way Armand poured lube into his hand and spread it across the PVC.

Suddenly he was too turned on to be nervous anymore. And, oh god. Please say it. Say it. _Tell me._

Armand must’ve heard him, and raised an eyebrow. He hooked an arm under Daniel’s thigh to drag him closer, and held his leg steady and out of the way as he lined himself up. The lube and PVC was as cold as Armand’s hands and he felt it teasing against his body, slick and sliding against him without entering yet.

“Daniel.”

He arched off the mattress, chest fusing to Armand’s as he tried to get closer and lower himself down onto it, but Armand’s unmoving and overpowering strength held him in place.

“Daniel,” he said again.

And goddamnit, why we he stopping? Daniel grit his teeth and struggled against him, irritated now that he was so turned on again.

“What?” breathless, and the word snapped out, and Armand held the dildo by the base. He pressed the tip to Daniel’s rim, firmly this time.

“I’m going to fuck you,” he said. His voice was the usual deadpan, but something was alight in his eyes. Precum dripped against Daniel’s stomach and his abs fluttered. And fuck, just hearing the words, seeing the look on Armand’s face. God, yes. Yes, tell me. Say it.

The head of the dildo moved in a slow, tantalizing circle. “Is this what you want?”

Yes, Jesus Christ, yes.

The feeling was something he almost couldn’t believe when it finally happened. Stretched and opened and then Armand was _inside_ , in a way that seemed so real, so literal, and he was throwing his head back and couldn’t believe the _noises_ he was making. He reached up to put his hands on Armand’s chest, groping blindly, as if to convince himself that he was really there. He wrapped his legs around and dug a heel into Armand’s ass, encouraging him to go deeper.

“Tell me how you want it, Daniel,” Armand said, and he finally let go of the base so that he could hold Daniel’s legs open. He tilted his hips forward in a quick, deep thrust, and Daniel felt his body rising towards it. “Tell me how you like it.”

And god, he couldn’t take it anymore, and went to grab himself. It sent a flash of apprehension over his skin, wondering if Armand would try to stop him, control him. He couldn’t even figure out if that would be good or bad. But nothing. A squeeze on his leg and the firm, rhythmic thrusts fucking into his body.

“Hard,” he panted, and Armand pulled him forward by his thighs in reply. He propped Daniel’s legs up over his shoulders. “Fuck me hard.”

His free hand reached for the back of Armand’s thigh, and he dug his nails in as Armand bottomed out. Fuck, yes, yes, harder—he’d never clawed at a partner with so much abandon, it was as freeing as it was horrifying—and it still felt like it wasn’t enough. Armand was still hesitating, holding back. He moved harder, but cautiously, and when Daniel opened his eyes he could see that Armand was studying his face, like he was watching for signs of pain. But no, no. Please. It’s fine. Please.

Harder and faster, just outside the capabilities of a mortal, and hitting an even stride that felt mechanical. God, yes. Surreal that it was finally happening, and even through the use of a toy it felt satisfying, the exact way Daniel had fantasized about. Preternatural strength, punishing inhuman rhythm. His legs were going weak and Armand had to steady him, placing a hand under his knee and pushing forward to fold him. He rolled his hips and changed their angle, experimenting until—

“Armand, fuck, fuck, right there, Jesus Christ!”

The hand at his cock went still for a moment, too overwhelmed, unable to react as Armand zeroed in. _Right there, right there!_ His eyes closed to block all of it out for a moment, focusing only on feeling, the fullness in his body and the cool skin against him, the heavy weight. _Armand_ . The physical sensation was there, the building pleasure, but he could feel Armand’s Blood inside, as well. The healed spot where he’d been bitten was tingling, wild energy dancing down his shoulder, his spine, making the hair raise on his arms. A shudder came over, partly the sex, but it was also the… _danger_.

He opened his eyes and watched Armand’s face.

Stark white, nearly glowing in the dull lamplight. Lips full and red, still stained from Daniel’s blood. It was hard to know what Armand was ever thinking. Not just his usual quirks, the general lack of communication, the abstract thoughts he’d share. But, beneath him, feeling the strength in his arms, the unnatural press of undead flesh, Daniel felt suddenly so aware of Armand’s _age_ . It sent a chill into his stomach, and instead of ruining the heated moment it only served to emphasize it by the contrast. Even to his own ears he was alarmed by the way his voice pitched, that it went up an octave and that he was _whining_. The sound made something flare in Armand’s eyes, and it was too overwhelming again, too much.

He broke eye contact to lift his head and watch the space where their bodies met. The sight of it had him squeezing around his cock again, twisting up by the head. The dripping mess he was making brought that same chill back, like he was on display here, feeling his own age just as hard. And, fuck, oh god. He’d be lying if he didn’t admit that it was turning him on. Even through the uncertainty and fear, even the awkward sense of humiliation that came with it. _Fuck_. He’d wanted this. He’d wanted it.

_He’s dead. He’s dead._

The hand on his thigh went tighter and he gasped from the pain. The surface of his skin was going white beneath the press of Armand’s fingers, and he could feel it burning there, but blending outward into something warm and pleasant. A faint line in Armand’s brow for a moment as he studied Daniel’s face, and then, and then…

His head fell back against the pillows, and his eyes widened, and there was nothing to see but the ceiling, drab and gray but _moving_ , and suddenly…

Voice being ripped from him, sobbing, because—

“How…” he had to bite his lip to stifle a cry before he could finish his question. _How is he doing that?_

It was more than Armand’s hands on him, or the dick inside, or the even the Blood. There was a faint pressure in his head, building in the back of his skull, warm and comforting and alien all at once, intrusive but familiar, and he knew the blood was leaving his face, that his skin was shrinking with goosebumps, but…

Armand was pounding into him, and the power was still there, but he felt warm suddenly. Pliable and soft and _living_ . And it felt real, coming in and out his body. It wasn’t the smooth glide of a toy, but the friction of real skin. He was edging close to that space where his thoughts would be meaningless, he could feel himself careening there, coming apart. And they were somewhere else. Maybe the same room, the same bed, maybe just a different reality. One without vampires, without death. He rolled his hips down against Armand and gasped, moaned, whined. The orgasm was building but something else was, too, and _oh god oh god_ he didn’t want it to stop.

“Kiss me,” he said, and his jaw was quivering as he reached to grab the back of Armand’s neck to pull him closer. Warm skin. Alive. _It’s so real, it’s so real._

Their chests came together as they kissed. Warmth and sweat and he pulled tighter, harder, needing him closer. Kissing frantically, messy, and Armand’s teeth nicked him and he was moaning, too, even through the illusion. Daniel’s free hand came up and scratched him across the shoulder blade hard enough that it bled, and he felt the skin sticking beneath his fingernails.

Then Armand’s hands at the back of his head, cradling him almost lovingly, and breathing against his neck. Daniel hooked his ankles behind Armand’s hips and squeezed his legs together. One hand groped for Armand’s ass as the other kept stroking himself.

 _Harder._ “Fuck me harder,” he pleaded. His tongue was still bleeding and Armand licked his mouth for a taste, then grabbed him by a fistful of hair.

“Harder?” his hand trailed down the side of Daniel’s body and gave his hip a squeeze. Pathetic noises coming out and Armand was laughing at him. He leaned in and licked more blood off Daniel’s teeth. “How much harder do you need, Daniel? You’re insatiable.”

 _Please_.

“Armand, fuck,” he whined.

“Oh, Daniel,” voice a silky, teasing purr. Notes of laughter hung in the words as he pushed Daniel’s bangs out of his eyes. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

But still, he hooked his thumbs into Daniel’s hip bones and went faster. Maybe not harder—even as human as he felt, the strength was still there, and Daniel knew he was going to be sore later—but quick, shallow thrusts that had him wailing.

“Armand, Armand—“

Then a pause, torturous and agonizing as he pulled almost all the way out, and studied Daniel’s face for the look of incredulous frustration, then pounded back in. And fuck, fuck, he was getting close.

“Armand,” voice broken by his gasps for air, “slow down, slow down.”

“Oh?” he pinched Daniel’s waist. “I thought you liked getting fucked hard, Daniel.”

_Jesus, fuck, Jesus Christ._

“You’re gonna make me come, slow down,” he begged. He let go of his dick to put his hand flat against Armand’s chest. Warm and human and his heart was actually pounding. But he only laughed again, and took Daniel’s wrists to pin them above his head. He laid in with decisive, firm strokes.

“Oh, my Daniel,” condescending little chuckle and a chaste kiss to Daniel’s lips. He licked a broad stripe up the side of Daniel’s face. “ _Good_.”

And that was it, there it was. His legs went tighter around Armand’s waist and he was seizing and twitching and the heat was everywhere. Muscles contracting as the cum shot out over his belly and smeared between them. His vision went white and his ears were ringing and he lifted his head for a kiss to center himself. _So real, so real_.

He wasn’t sure if having both worlds was possible, if it was too much to ask for, but his brain and body were not being picky. He sank back down into the mattress to ride out the aftershocks, and when the teeth punctured his throat he imagined that Armand could come, as well. That his dick was pulsing and filling him, that the last few weak thrusts were all he could manage before going soft. He felt the blood trickling against the skin on his neck and imagined that Armand’s cum would trickle out between his legs. Caught somewhere between the fetish and the uncomfortable reality of true affection.

Armand was licking and kissing his throat as it healed, and his heart rate was slowing. It felt almost… normal. But, fuck. Did he even want normal?

Hard to say.

He’d always been a dreamer, really. Always been a bit of a fool. Asking for too much was his birthright.

Armand was curling into him like a cat, and wrapping his arms around Daniel’s body. Quick illusion of domesticity before it became crushing, suffocating, and he wiggled against the bed.

“Armand… Armand I can’t breathe.”

“Oh.”

He let up, and leaned back, carefully pulled out and settled back on his knees. Daniel’s eyes fluttered closed and he listened to the sounds of Armand fiddling with the buckles and freeing himself from the harness, and then the warmth was back, and Armand’s cheek was pressed against the space over Daniel’s heart. He threw his arm around Daniel’s mid-section and made a mess of the drying cum that was still spread there.

And he liked these moments, Daniel was realizing. And the comfortable way they clicked into each other felt reassuring, like maybe he could have it. At least for now. There were times where he wasn’t sure if he felt attracted to Armand because he was a vampire, or in spite of it, and he was still trying to see through it to the person that was actually there inside. At times it was too muddled, too complicated. But these quiet moments, silent and spent, both of them sated in their respective forms, felt right.

“Armand…” he shifted beneath the cage of Armand’s limbs.

_What is it, Daniel?_

“Can you…” he made a gesture towards his mouth. “My tongue.”

_Of course, beloved._

A final Blood Kiss to seal the act, and they both took their time with it, tasting each other. Even when the blood was gone, going lazy and relaxed, fingertips caressing jaws, faint brush of eyelashes against his cheek. Daniel rubbed slow circles into Armand’s back, surprised by the way Armand melted against him.  

And just…

It was hard to know if his fear had been unfounded, impossible to know if Armand’s had been. Caught between the warm delight of the Blood haze and the impending fallout. How many hours until dawn? If they took it too far, would it be harder to watch him go? How long before his hair went gray while Armand remained unchanged?

Armand had never grown up, and in some ways, neither had Daniel. Stumbled into this life and never progressed. Night after night of this, and it made his spine run cold at the thought that there was a time limit on it.

He remembered his father’s voice, garbled through the bad long distance connection. “You’re making a mistake. You’re throwing your life away.”

Shit, he hadn’t even known the half of it.

It had been one of those days that he couldn’t stay asleep. Sun was too oppressive, mistakes were too big to ignore. So tired and confused. All wrong choices and bad decisions but he didn’t know how to stop.

 

**Author's Note:**

> [Visit me on Tumblr!](https://monstersinthecosmos.tumblr.com/post/164765471314/dust-of-the-saturn-monstersinthecosmos-vampire) :D


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